No clicking, no chains - not Locus; York and Delta had been damaged, but who knows how long injuries last in a place like this, designed to protect whatever's aligned with it? Her hand goes to the gun at her hip without waiting for any kind of visual cue: if 76 thinks there's something loitering nearby, she isn't willing to risk taking it lightly.

"Maybe it's him." Voice low and dripping with vitriol from behind the raised body of her SMG, squinting out into the darkness. "The Faceless."

Oh, she hopes it's him. More than anyone has any right to, she does.